


I'm Sorry

by Acexual_Attorney



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: ((hint: its both)), Fake AH Crew, Intrusive Thoughts, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, also i had a gr8 title for this last night but now i forgot it & i hate myself, is it venting or is it projection? u decide!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acexual_Attorney/pseuds/Acexual_Attorney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death<br/>/deTH/<br/>noun<br/>the action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I love death and also dying :')

Living in a penthouse in the tallest apartment complex with a personal balcony right there isn't the safest thing for Jeremy, especially with how bad he's been doing lately, how he's been feeling now. He was on the other side of the safety guard, the wind blowing away bitter tears and drying his already dry mouth.

 

_Do it, fucking do it. You're useless and they could always replace you. That's what you were in the first place and what you'll always be, a replacement._

 

All Jeremy would have to do is let go. He could let go and he wouldn't be in pain anymore.

 

_Just let go._

 

But he couldn't. He couldn't unwrap his fingers from the cold metal that was the only thing keeping him alive. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared, more scared than he's ever been in his entire life. He could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, blood rushing through his ears, his whole body shaking from the thought of being plastered against the pavement and the cold wind creeping under his shirt.

 

No, he couldn't do it himself.

 

_Ask the others to push you, they'd gladly do it. They'd be happy to see you dead so they wouldn't have to put up with you anymore. They hate you, they hate you, they hate you._

 

Jeremy's heart clenched, sending a pain throughout his entire body. It's true, they hated him, they wanted to see him dead. They only brought him along because _he_ left. If it wasn't for _him_ they never would've strung him along. It's all _his_ fault.

 

More tears were caught by the wind along with blood, carrying them back against the walls of the complex and leaving dark stains on the brick. The open air stung the cuts on his arms, on his thighs, on his stomach, on his chest. Stitches no one but him saw from too-deep self-inflicted wounds pulled tighter as he strained to keep himself upright.

 

_Pathetic. Weak. Selfish. Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid._

 

He was so horrible, he deserved this. He deserved to die, to be torn apart by gravity and have his guts sprayed across city block by city block. His body broken as much as his heart and mind, twisted and mangled by the sidewalk. The thought of being gone, drifting lazily through the air like a dead leaf, sent jolts of joy through him.

 

_But he still couldn't fucking do it._

 

Jeremy leaned forward, tempting his own fate. The railing groan under the newfound pressure being put on it. Whether imagining it or not, he could feel the individual rivets pulling against their sockets, begging to be let out, to be let free.

 

_Let it be an accident._

The idea sent Jeremy's heart racing, jumping from his chest to his throat to his mouth. It could be an "accident", no one at fault except destiny. If the safety railing gave way under his weight and sent him tumbling, it would be fate. He was meant to die. He _needed_ to die.

 

Leaning forward further, Jeremy got a better view of Los Santos. Skyscrapers towered in the cloudless sky over tiny old shops, shiny and new buildings contrasted next to dirty and run-down homes.

 

There's the first apartment he got with his girlfriend when he came here. It was where he felt he belonged for the first time in a long time.

_You left her behind, left her to die. She hated you with everything she had and still does._

 

That's the café where everyone would meet up to laugh and have a good time, telling stories about their line of work. Matt, Lindsay, Kdin, Trevor, Caleb...

_You left them in the dust the first chance you got. You're selfish, narcissistic, they all loath you and are just waiting to get back at you._

 

The warehouse where Jeremy went on his first mission with the Crew. It's demolished now, gone so that a newer, prettier, more unstable building can be put in its place.

_Just like your so-called "friendship" with them._

 

_They hate you, they all fucking hate you. They want you gone, they wouldn't care if you left. It wouldn't be any different with you dead._

 

Jeremy could hear laughter floating from the living room. He could practically see them sitting in a circle, clinking glasses and celebrating. They were happy, having a great time while Jeremy was here, destroying himself. They didn't even know, they didn't even care, they never would care.

 

_It wouldn't be any different if with you dead._

 

Tears were flowing harder, he was hyper ventilating and could barely breathe, even if the air wasn't thin. In the moment, Jeremy reached up to tug on the small silver cross hanging around his neck, given to him by a long-dead mother. The sudden weight pulling on one side of the railing made it collapse with a loud snap, and Jeremy fell.

 

Falling, falling, falling, it took forever. The screams of terror from the people below him only lengthened the fall. As much as Jeremy wanted to scream too, he couldn't. His throat was closed, so he was left with his mouth open and a silent plea for forgiveness on his lips.

 

_Crunch._


End file.
